


7 minutes in heaven (atavan halen)

by testosterlonely



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Casual Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Modern Era, Multi, Pining, based on the fall out boy song, kind of coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testosterlonely/pseuds/testosterlonely
Summary: “I’m not going home alone cause I don’t do too well on my own.”Based on the song 7 Minutes in Heaven by Fall Out Boy.Beau and Molly are in love with someone who doesn’t love them back. But drunken nights and jealousy lead to confessions...
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	7 minutes in heaven (atavan halen)

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for references to drug and alcohol abuse, casual sex, and minor suicidal ideation.
> 
> this is the first in a hopeful collection of Critical Role fics inspired by the pop punk music of my angsty teen years. best enjoyed with a Fall Out Boy album and your favorite band tee.

_I’m sleeping my way out of this one with anyone who will lie down. I’ll be stuck fixated on one star when the world is crashing down.”_

It’s easier not to think of him in the dark, with the music pumping, surrounded by sweaty bodies to flirt with. In the chaos of the club, Mollymauk can pretend he’s not in love with Caleb. With the right mix of drugs, alcohol, and men, Molly can banish him from his mind, if only for a few hours. 

His routine has become simple. Pathetically so, he tells himself. He keeps a running monologue. 

_Say goodbye to everyone. Caleb heads to the library to research - you know because you’ve followed him there a few times. A few too many times. Try to convince yourself to tell him how you feel. Fail. Go home. Microwave something. Scroll through Grindr as you eat your depressing tepid meatloaf. Make a date for the night. Hopefully someone nothing like Caleb. That only makes it harder._

It started after a particularly hard day at the café. The customers had been especially cruel that morning, and after being screamed at about how unbelievable it was that the cafe wasn’t able to make “an iced hot chocolate without ice”, Molly found himself crying in the kitchen, ready to quit. Caleb came to find him, rubbed gentle circles in his back, hugged him. Told him it would be okay. And Molly believed it. He wanted to tell Caleb how he felt, ask him to dinner. 

He built up his resolve and pulled out his phone, sending Caleb a text. 

“dinner n drinks 2nite w/ me?”

The answer came through immediately. 

“I’m sorry Mollymauk, I’m seeing a movie at 7 with Jester. Can we meet for drinks after? 10?”

He felt the bubbles of anxiety in his stomach and confirmed the plan. But then it was 10:30, then 11, then 11:30, and Molly was five drinks in and still alone. 

It would make sense for Caleb to be with Jester. Molly had to get him out of his mind. That night was the first time he went home with a stranger. He was tall and dark-skinned with long, black hair. Every bit Caleb’s opposite. 

But he still called Caleb’s name when he came. 

_Pick out an outfit. Something tight, revealing. Wonder what Caleb would think of it. Shove the thought down. Text your hookup. Make it clear what you want. A couple of drinks is the price of admission._

Molly knew what he liked himself best in - what he was most comfortable in. A short skirt, one that showed off his long legs. Sheer tights, to cover some of the scars. A shirt for a favorite band, one that guaranteed conversation. But now, his outfits were planned around what the men would like. No skirts when you’re meeting one of the “masc4masc” bears, no band shirts when you’re meeting a hipster who’d laugh you away for the “mainstream” music. He didn’t care what he liked, not on those nights. 

_Meet him, at a bar somewhere. Switch it up nightly. The bartender at your favorite club asked if you were a sex worker one night, because he saw you with a different man every night for the last week. He asked if you were okay. You lied and said yes. You don’t go there any more._

That should have been a wake-up call, a warning that Molly was being reckless. But he needed the comfortable numbness, the routine. To feel wanted. He ignored the red flags because it was easier than confronting his demons. 

_Get high before you go. Make sure it’s safe to mix with alcohol, you’re depressed, not suicidal._

He wondered if he actually was suicidal - if this was just a more passive form of self destruction. But weed and pills were safer than emotional openness, he told himself. 

_Dance with the stranger. Don’t worry about conversation, as long as you end up in his bed at the end of the night, or pressed up against him in an alleyway, you’re doing fine. Don’t think about actually getting to know him. This will never be more than a one night stand._

He’s woken up in stranger’s beds more often than not lately. After Yasha moved in with Zuala, there was no one there to worry about him not coming home. The sex is… sex. Not good, not bad, just… a distraction. 

But that's all it is, a distraction. He still can’t get Caleb off his mind. 

\--

Beau can’t stop fucking thinking about Jester. 

She should have known better than to fall for her, or to tell anyone how she felt. Especially not Veth. Nothing against Veth, she’s a good friend and a fun drinking buddy, but she’s not really the one you trust secrets with. 

They were out together, all of them, drinking and having fun and it was nice, it was great, and Jester looked amazing. Not in a creepy way, of course, Beau would never objectify her like that. She’s far more than her body. But Beau couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. She must have borrowed that dress from her mother, because Beau had never seen Jester in something like that, but it fit her like a glove. Beau tried not to stare, but the more drunk she got, the harder it became, and when Veth asked her to go take a smoke break, she agreed. 

She had barely lit the cigarette when Veth asked her matter of factly if she was in love with Jester. She choked on the inhale, taking in far too much smoke and coughing hard.

“Why would I be in love with Jester?” she asked defensively. She had tried so hard not to be obvious, if Veth had noticed… had Jester too?

Veth just gave her a look. 

“Fine, I’m in love with fuckin’ Jester, okay? You better not tell her, I swear to the Traveler, I’m not going to wreck my friendship with her over a stupid crush.” 

“I knew it!” Veth exclaimed, “I knew it I knew it I knew it! I'll be your wingman, Beau, we can do this! I’ll help you seduce her and-”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Veth, she doesn’t feel the same, there’s no way she could feel the same. Just let it go,” Beau snapped, clenching her cigarette so tightly between her fingertips that it cracked in half, tobacco falling to the floor. She was angry, and embarrassed, and she regretted it immediately, but before she had a chance to apologize, or even decide if she wanted to apologize, Veth had turned on her heel and headed inside. 

Beau swore loudly and lit another cigarette, smoking it fully before she headed back inside. The break and the air had sobered her up enough to realize it was a mistake to talk like that to Veth, she hadn’t meant to let her anger get out of control. She was ready to apologize, grovel at Veth’s feet, buy her a drink and admit she’d been an asshole. 

Veth was talking to Caleb when she walked in, just in time to see Veth slap Caleb on the back as he made his way over to where Jester was sitting. She watched, stomach sick, as he said a few words to Jester, who smiled brightly and took his hand as they headed to the dance floor. 

She couldn’t watch any more. She was too hurt, too angry. She headed to the bar and downed a shot, catching the eye of the tall, blonde woman next to her. 

“Drink on me? I’m Beau.”

An hour and a few more drinks later, she was tumbling into bed with the stranger. She couldn’t remember her name, maybe she had never asked for it, but she barely stopped herself from moaning out Jester’s name.

It became the way to deal with it, with watching Jester from a distance. She’d go out far too often, hook up with random women to distract herself from how she actually felt. The sex was good, yeah, but it wasnt… it was just sex. It wasn’t Jester. It wasn't what she wanted, who she wanted. 

But it was better than being alone. 

\--

Molly was drunk and alone, throwing up in the bathroom of a shitty dive bar. His date hadn’t showed, so clearly the best option was to get shitfaced and stumble home, lick his wounds and try again tomorrow. 

But for some reason, that night was different. He was sad, so fucking sad, and he just didn’t want to be alone. Not this time.

He cleaned himself up as best as he could, settling his tab and plopping himself ungracefully down onto the curb outside the bar. He pulled out his phone, determined. It was time. 

He hovered his finger over the button for a moment and pressed call. It rang, and then again, and then an answer.

“Hello! Hi Molly! How are you? Caleb is in the bathroom and I heard his phone ringing and I thought ‘oh hey it’s my friend Molly! I wonder what he needs’ so I answered!,” Jester said cheerfully on the other side of the line.

Molly’s stomach fell. 

“Nothing, dear, I misdialed. Meant to call Yasha. Give him my love, goodbye,” Molly said airily, trying to act like it didn’t matter, like it was fine that he’d called to confess his fucking love and fucking Jester answered, Moonweaver’s bloomers he was so stupid, so stupid. He hung up and let himself cry in earnest.

A kind firbolg man, tall with pink hair, approached, saying calmly, “I, uh, noticed you were pretty upset and I thought, can I help him? Does he need something? A taxi? For me to call someone? My name is Caduceus, I run the flower shop nearby, worked a little too late tonight.” He paused. “Sorry, I spend most of my time with the plants, don’t talk to people too much. So, can I help?”

Molly sniffled and handed him the phone. “Can you call someone for me? Yasha? I… don’t want to be alone.”

The firbolg smiled. “I can do that.”

\--

“Hey, so, you’re really beautiful and everything, I’m pretty sure your thighs could crush me and I’m a fan of that, but you’re really drunk, Beau, I can’t do this tonight,” the beautiful dwarven woman said firmly, gently pushing Beau away and pulling out of a steadily deepening kiss. “I don’t hook up when I’m drunk and honestly, I doubt you even know my name.”

“Uh… Meg?” Beau guessed, trying her best not to slur her words.

The dwarf laughed. “It’s Keg, see, you’re too drunk to even know my name and you look like you haven’t slept in weeks. Let me buy you some greasy food and we can talk. Gods know you could use it.” She gave Beau a gentle kiss on the forehead, scratchy stubble bristling on her skin. 

—

Keg was funny and sweet, and if Beau hadn’t been so far up Jester’s ass she would have been swooning. But it was nice to talk to someone who got it. Keg talked about fawning over this girl named Calianna who she said was absolutely gorgeous, but she’d left before she got a chance to tell her how she felt and regretted it ever since. 

As Beau stuffed herself full of bacon, she told Keg about Jester. About how happy she made her, how beautiful she was. How much she tried to push it away but it just wouldn’t work. She flipped through her phone to show her a picture of Jester, and felt her stomach sour as she opened the most recent image on her Snapchat story. 

Jester, laughing with Caleb, captioned “deep talks!!!!”

Beau clenched her fists and did her best to push away the salty tears threatening to burst out. Keg, noticing the change in mood, put her hand on Beau’s arm. 

“Why don’t you stay with me tonight? No funny business. I just, you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

Keg held her until she fell asleep, ever the gentleman. No sex, no kissing, just… innocent touch. 

Helps to soothe a broken heart.

—

Molly woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own. 

Wait, it wasn’t a bed. It was a couch. And he knew that couch. Yasha’s. 

The night came back to him in flashes - getting stood up, calling Caleb, the strange pink firbolg - was that real or was that a hallucination? 

“Yasha?” He called out. “Yasha, my darling, how badly did I embarrass myself last night?”

“You need to tell him how you feel and also stop drinking so much because you threw up on me three times and cried for three hours,” Yasha said firmly, walking into the room with a plate of scrambled eggs and burnt fried potatoes. “I convinced Veth to cover your shift this morning, but you owe her a bottle of wine and you’re working this afternoon. Caleb is coming over at noon. You’re going to talk. And then you’ll either be happy or you’ll mope and you can get it out of your system.”

Molly sighed dramatically. “Okay. I agree. One last question. The pink firbolg…?”

“He’s real. I’ve bought Zu flowers from him before. His boyfriend is that twinky half-orc with the fake British accent who comes in sometimes.”

“Huh. Stranger things have happened, I guess.”

—

“Your phone has been going off for approximately half an hour, Beau, do you have somewhere to be?” 

Beau tried to ignore Keg’s voice, pulling a pillow over her head. 

“That’s my pillow, give it back. I don’t know the code to your phone and it won’t stop going off. If you’re going to ignore whatever responsibilities you have, at least turn your phone on silent,” Keg grumbled, but Beau could hear the smile in her voice. 

“Fine, I’ll check my fuckin’ phone - oh fuck, dude, it’s 11 o’clock and I worked at 10.” Beau checked her phone quickly. A missed call from Pumat, a text from Fjord, and… five texts from Jester?

9:17 heyyyy beau do you work today?  
9:32 I checked the schedule and you work today! I made you something special!  
10:05 hey!! did your car not start?  
10:30 Beau! are you dead? did you get kidnapped? are you dead and kidnapped?  
10:50 Pumat said your phone rang so I don’t think you’re dead or kidnapped but can you text me when you wake up I’m worried about you 

“Fuck,” Beau whispered. 

11:02 heeeeeey jester I overslept tell Pumat I’ll be there soon

“I gotta go but… thank you. Come by the Invulnerable Vagrant sometime and I’ll make you a stupidly elaborate drink on me,” Beau muttered, trying to play it off, but genuinely grateful. 

“I will. I demand extra whipped cream. So much whipped cream. Maybe just a mug of whipped cream,” Keg laughed as Beau pulled the door shut behind her.

Her phone buzzed as she started walking. 

11:04 Meet me in the kitchen when you get here we have to talk okay? 

Beau swallowed deeply. This… wasn’t going to be fun. 

—

In the three hours between waking up and Caleb’s arrival, Molly showered twice, changed outfits seven times, rehearsed approximately fifty possible conversations, debated changing his name and moving to Tal’Dorei three times, and stress-ate three of Yasha’s tubs of ice cream. 

But as much as he willed the time to stop moving, the clock turned to 12:00 and there was a polite knock exactly as the clock stopped chiming. 

Yasha opened it, staring at the blushing redhead in front of her. “Hello, Caleb. You are here to talk to Molly? I’ll leave you alone now. Please take off your shoes. I’m not losing my security deposit.” Once she was satisfied that he had removed all outside apparel, she headed up the stairs, mouthing “Talk to him” to Molly. 

“Um, hi,” Molly began, at the same time as Caleb said, “Mollymauk, I need to tell you something.”

Molly stopped. “I, okay. Sorry. Shoot.”

Caleb breathed in deeply. “When you called last night, I think you got the wrong impression. I am not interested in Jester, I mean, she has many interesting things to say and is very smart but I am not interested in her like that. Or any women like that.” He swallowed, catching his breath. “I am interested in men. One particular man.” 

Molly felt his heart break even further. Him being gay and not liking Molly was even worse than him being straight! 

“That man is you, Mollymauk. I have felt this way for so long but I did not know how to tell you, and Jester is better at feelings although I fear she had read too many trashy romance novels and thus has an unrealistic expectation for romance, but I went to her to tell me how to tell you I love you, and I have wanted to love you.” He paused to take in Molly’s reaction. 

Joy. Unbridled joy. Molly, for once in his life, is without words. 

“Can I kiss you, schatz,” Caleb asked quickly. 

Molly nodded and pulled him in tightly, kissing him harder than he ever thought he could. 

And he saw fireworks. 

—

“I’m sorry, I was an idiot and I overslept,” Beau began, but Pumat just held out a hand to her.

“No worries, Beauregard. Miss Jester wanted to talk to you anyways, lovely blue lady she sure is,” Pumat was way too calm, way too chill, but that… was pretty typical of him, honestly. Either he was incredibly stoned all the time, or he was simply the most mellow firbolg in existence… not like Beau has much to compare against, of course. 

She nodded wordlessly and headed to the kitchen. 

It was… decorated? There were flowers? And crepe paper? And a huge cookie, the biggest cookie she’d ever seen. Decorated with little blue hearts and writing at the center. 

I love you, Beauregard. 

Beau was dizzy all of a sudden, nearly falling over in shock. Jester was right beside her, though, smiling mischievously. 

“So… what do you think? I thought you’d like something… sweet! Caleb helped me plan it last night! Did you know he has a crush on Molly? It’s soooooo cute,” Jester said excitedly, placing her hand in Beau’s. “I like you! I have for a long time! I just didn’t know how to tell you and Caleb knows you better than I do so he helped me and I helped him!”

Beau kissed her, without thinking, without worrying. And Jester kissed her back. It was better than she’d ever dreamed, better than any woman she tried to fill the tiefling-shaped void in her heart with. 

“That was so much better than I imagined!” Jester squealed, pulling her into another kiss. “Pumat! It worked! She likes me! I’m taking today off! So is she! I’m going to go hang out with my girlfriend!” She paused. “Beau, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Fuckin’ yes!”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are greatly appreciated! I hope to write more across various pairings!
> 
> special shoutout to my husband for listening to me blabber about this for weeks and to Anya and Cass for being such fantastic beta readers and friends!
> 
> you can find me on Twitter or Tumblr at @testosterlonely! is it Thursday yet?


End file.
